Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1887-05-26

ten shall die, the rest shall go free; but the
white man Incubu, who slew Scragga. my
son, and the black man, his servant. who
pretends to my throne, and Infadoos, my
brother who brewS rebellion against me,
these shall die by torture as an offering to
the silent ones Such are the merciful
words of Twala'
After consulting with the others little, l
answered him in loud voice, so that the
soldiers might hear, thus:
20 back thou dog, to Twala, who sent
thee, and say that we, Ignosi, veritable king
OF the Kukuanas Incubu, Bougwan, and
Macumazahn, the wise white ones from the
stars, who make dark the sun, Infadoos, of
the royal house. and the chiefs, captains, and
people here gathered, make answer and say,
That we will not surrender; that before the
sun has twice gone down Twala's corpse
shall stiffen at Twala's gates, and Ignosi,
whose father TWala slew, shall reign in his
stead Now go, ere we whip thee away, and
beware how We lift hand against such as
we"
The herald laughed loud ''Ye frighten
not men with such swelling words" he cried
out. ''Sh0w yourself as bold tomorrow, 0
We who darken the sun! Be bold, fight, and
be merry, before the crows pick your bones
till they are whittier than your faces. Fare
we'll; perhaps we may meet in the fight;
wait for me, pray, white men," And with
this shaft of sarcasm he retired, and almost
Immediately the sun sunk
That night was busy one for us, for as far
as was possible by the moonlight all prepare
tons for the morroW's fight were continued.
Messengers were constantly coming and
going from the place where we sat in coun-
Gil. AT last about an hour after midnight,
everything that could be done was done, and
the camp, save for the occasional challenge
OF sentry, sunk into sleep. Sir Henry and
|. accompanied by Ignosi and one of the
chiefs, descended the hill and made the
round of the vedettes. AS we went, sudden
ly, from all sorts of unexpected places,
spears CLEANED out in the moonlight, only to
vanish again as we uttered the password
1t was clear to us that none were sleeping at
their posts. Then we returned, picking our
way through thousands of sleeping warriors,
many of whom were taking their last earth
ly rest.
The moonlight fickered along their spears
and played upon their features and made
them CHASTITY; the chilly night wind tossed
their tall and hearSe-like pIumeS. There
they lay in wild confusion, with arms out
stretched and twisted limbs; their stern,
stalwart forms looking weird and unhuman
in the moonlight.
How many of these do you suppose will
be alive at this time tO-morr0W?' asked Sir.
Henry
| shook my head and looked again at the
sleeping men, and to my tired and yet eX-
cited imagination it seemed as though death
had already touched them. My minds eye
singled out those who were sealed to slaugh-
ter, and there rushed in upon my heart a
great sense of the mystery of human life,
and an overwhelming sorrow at its futiIity
and sadness. Tonight these thousands slept
their healthy sleep, tomorrow they. and
many others with them, ourselves perhaps
among them, would be stiffening in the cold:
their wives would be widows, their children
fatherlesS, and their place know them no
more forever. Only the old moon W ould
shine serenely on, the night wind would stir
the grasses, and the wide earth would take
its happy rest, even as it did aons before
these were, and will do se0ns after they
have been forgotten.
Yet man dies not whilst the world at once
his mother and his monument, remains His
name is forgotten, indeed, but the breath he
breathed yet stirs the pine-topS on the noun
tainS, the sound of the words he spoke yet
echoes on through space; the thoughts his
brain gave birth to we have inherited to-day;
his passions are our cause Of life; the joys
and sorrows that he felt are our familiar
friends-the end from which he fled aghast
will surely overtake us also?
Truly the universe is full of ghosts-not
sheeted churchyard specters, but the mex
tinguiShable and immortal elements of life,
which, having once been, can never die,
l. II
To be continued